


Softcore

by Silverbullets



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Bottom Hatake Kakashi, Fluff, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Uchiha Obito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverbullets/pseuds/Silverbullets
Summary: “I’m your present. You can do anything you want to me.”“This is what I want,” he whispers. “You just like this, so very good for me.”
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 7
Kudos: 128





	Softcore

_I’m your present,_ Kakashi had giggled. _I’m your present, Obito,_ cheeks red from the cold and from laughing too hard and from that last glass of sake, too. There had been a yellow party hat that Obito had worn even though he hates how the elastic digs into his chin, and a cake, and hugs. A slow, mellow evening. _I’m your present._

And now, in the semi-darkness of their room, he says it again, but his tone is less teasing, less childish, more _wanting._ An invitation, although most of what Kakashi says when they're alone in this room is an invitation. Lips kiss-swollen, gaze heavy, body splayed and pliant and offered. No bow to untie, but Obito _did_ get to unwrap his gift earlier, peeling Kakashi out of his clothes so, so slowly. Appreciating. Taking the sight in. Kakashi is impatient, always, always demanding, always _needy,_ but today is Obito’s birthday, so he made an effort, stood still. Couldn’t keep from shivering as the Uchiha ran warm hands over the hard plane of his chest, but stood still.

“You’re beautiful,” Obito tells him, breath fanning over his collarbones, before placing a soft, succulent kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“Obito, it’s not about me tonight," Kakashi whines. "Tell me what you want, tell me how you want me.” Obito ignores him, but Kakashi insists. “I’m your present. You can do anything you want to me.”

“This is what I want,” he whispers. “You just like this, so very good for me.”

Kakashi makes a happy sound, and then a choked sound, when Obito’s lubed finger circles his rim.

“I showered,” he tells Obito, and he already sounds a little out of breath. Obito hums absently, attention mostly drawn to Kakashi’s hardening cock, because, well. Well. “Right before we went out.” He continues. “Really well.”

The words register, and Obito smiles, tender. Kakashi is brazen and shameless about many, many things—but about this, for some reason, he is always shy.

And this, _this_ is the real gift. How Kakashi doesn’t squirm, doesn’t grab, doesn’t press. Lets Obito take his sweet, sweet time. Lets Obito thrust one, two, three fingers inside, pace leisurely, torturous. Lets Obito urge his legs over his shoulders, mouth at the inside of Kakashi’s tense thigh. Bite, gently. And then move up, replace his fingers with his mouth, his tongue. He holds Kakashi open with his thumbs, licks inside, moans against his hole like Kakashi’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Kakashi’s head collapses back against the sheets, throat stuck on a silent scream as Obito curls his tongue, and _this,_ this is the gift. Every choked, needy gasp. The way Kakashi’s legs tremble, his voice breaking on Obito’s name, every _please,_ every _don’t stop._ Fingers and mouth working in tandem, Obito coaxes more and more sounds out of Kakashi’s lips, drunk on the feeling. _I did this, I made him feel this good._

Kakashi’s hand scrapes over his scalp, to press him close, closer, to get _more._ And Obito wants to give him everything, but soon enough Kakashi is shaking, pushing him away this time, panting, “Obito, stop, I’m gonna—I don’t want to come like this.”

“How do you want to come, ‘Kashi?” Obito asks, teases, smile audible even to his own ears, as he plants one last kiss to Kakashi’s hipbone. It’s his birthday, after all. This is what he wants.

“With you,” Kakashi says, reaching for him, “With you inside me.” Obito kisses his nose, his cheek, chuckles when Kakashi tries to kiss him on the mouth but misses. He goes for the box of condoms on the nightstand but Kakashi stops him. “You can fuck me without, if you want,” he says, tone suddenly very serious. Something settles heavy at the pit of Obito’s stomach.

“You said you didn’t like that,” he says softly, smoothing his hand over Kakashi’s arm.

“I don’t—” Kakashi frowns. “I don’t _mind,_ and it’s your birthday. I wanted this to be—special, I don’t know, _different.”_

Obito smiles. “With you, it’s always special.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes. “Don’t be corny.”

“I mean it. You don’t have to do stuff you don’t like, not with me, not for me.”

“I really don’t mind,” Kakashi says after a beat of silence, looking a little bit self-conscious. “You choose, then.”

Obito leans in to kiss the frown away. “Next time,” he says, tearing the foil packet open. “If you really want to try, I’m going to come inside you, lick you clean and fuck you again.” Kakashi _shudders._ Hand on Kakashi’s knee, Obito settles between his legs, smiling. “You’d want that?”

“Yeah,” Kakashi rasps. “Yeah, I’ll hold you to that.”

And as he slides in, easy and smooth because he took his time, licked his lover open, fingered him loose, Obito thinks, _this,_ this is the best way to start another year of existence, really, _really._ This truly is the best present, this truly is all he’s ever wanted.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” he gasps, and he sounds so _raw_ it surprises him. Kakashi groans.

“You’re being sappy again.”

“It’s my _birthday.”_ Obito grins, and Kakashi looks like he wants to retort, but Obito punctuates his reply with a sharp roll of his hips, and the words die in Kakashi’s throat. “It’s my birthday.” He repeats when Kakashi sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, trying to rein the sounds in. “I want to hear you, I get to hear you.”

And he wants this image seared into his brain, tattooed at the back of his eyelids. Kakashi’s body jolting with every hard thrust, head thrown back, pale throat bared, a symphony of moans trickling from his parted lips. Kakashi clutching at the sheets desperately, wanton and beautiful, and _Obito’s._

“Obito—” a fractured, helpless sob, “fuck me, fuck me _harder—”_

And Obito tries, gives it his all, tilting Kakashi’s hips up to change the angle, his grip so tight he knows there will be bruises tomorrow. His mark, the shape of his hand on Kakashi’s pale skin, the thought makes him _dizzy_ in ways he does not want to examine. Kakashi’s cock is leaking against his stomach, and he’s whining in that soft, needy way he always does when he’s close, so Obito leans in, the motion almost folding Kakashi in two, and asks, “Can you come like this, ‘Kashi? Just from my cock?”

“Please,” is all Kakashi can answer, “Please please _please—”_

Palm pressed to the mattress for purchase, Obito snaps his hips, pounds into him fast and erratic, lost in how warm slick tight _good_ it feels, chasing his own pleasure and Kakashi’s simultaneously. _Love you like this,_ he thinks—blurts out. _Just like this, Kakashi, just like this._

They come almost at the same time. Kakashi first, with a shout, tightening around Obito in the process, tipping him over the edge. It’s a blur, really, of sounds and swears and a failed kiss and white dots dancing on the corners of Obito’s vision. For a glorious, glorious instant, all he knows, all he feels is Kakashi.

He comes down from his high with his head pillowed on Kakashi’s sternum, Kakashi gently petting his hair. Kakashi whimpers when he pulls out, tries to grab him when he gets up to throw the condom and get something to clean Kakashi up.

“I’m coming back, you big baby.” Obito chuckles.

“I got you a real present, too,” Kakashi tells him when he returns with a washcloth. “In the closet.”

“You’re a real present,” Obito says. Kakashi punches him in the shoulder.

“Stop saying shit like that!” he whines, sounding genuinely distressed. His face is turning pink. Obito bends down to kiss the tip of his nose.

And really, it’s as if he’s asking for it. Obito knows exactly where he’s ticklish, where to touch to make him _cry_ with laughter. Kakashi almost kicks him off the bed twice in retaliation, but it’s worth it. They’re both out of breath when Obito gives up, chests heaving, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t think he can get up to fetch his gift, and Kakashi _certainly_ isn’t getting up before the morning, that’s one thing Obito knows. It’s okay. It can wait.

“I love you,” Kakashi says, quietly. They’re not looking at each other. “You know that, right? I love you.”

“I know that.” Obito returns. Finds Kakashi’s hand, links their fingers together. “Me too.” He takes a deep breath, and then, “I wasn’t joking. I really do feel lucky. It’s really—I know you were kidding. But having you. It does feel like a gift.”

The mattress dips, and for a second Obito thinks Kakashi is rolling away in embarrassment, but no. He rolls _towards_ Obito, buries his nose in the crook of Obito’s neck.

“Happy birthday, Obito,” he mumbles there, breath hot. “There’s still fifteen minutes left.”

Obito closes his eyes. It is, he thinks to himself. Happy, _happy_ birthday indeed.


End file.
